


The Scythian Women

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Series: Two Jedi Walk Into A Mandalorian [18]
Category: Aquaman (2018), Batman - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aquaman Played by Jason Momoa, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Female Bruce Wayne, Female Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Arthur Curry, Mandalorian Bruce Wayne, Mandalorian Civil War (Star Wars), Mandalorian Obi-Wan Kenobi, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29905707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: Obi-Wan tried to explain to him the complex concepts of families versus clans versus houses in Mandalorian culture, and he'd never quite gotten a hold of it. What he does know if that Bryce Wayne is the leader of her own, Clan Wayne, just as Obi-Wan is of her newly expanded Clan Kyracyk. He also knows their clans bear sworn ties to the House Fett. And maybe he's not just interested in a Mandalorian with an ex-Jedi husband, but also what she can tell him about his own wife's elusive past.
Relationships: Arthur Curry/Bruce Wayne, Obi-Wan Kenobi/CT-7567 | Rex
Series: Two Jedi Walk Into A Mandalorian [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553227
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	The Scythian Women

**Author's Note:**

> So, for all of you rightfully confused by the sudden addition of DC characters in an otherwise entirely Star Wars story, this little tidbit is a crossover with another fic of mine called "Opening Negotiations". Brief synopsis for anyone who isn't interested in that for the background here:
> 
> \- Bryce Wayne, along with the entire Batfam, are True Mandalorians with allegience to House Fett, just like Clan Kyracyk.  
> \- Bryce is married to former Jedi Arthur Curry, who's father was the (non-canonical) half-brother of Jango who died when Arthur was four  
> \- During the end of the Mandalorian Civil Wars, Arthur was sent on a mission with Bryce to stop the fighting and secure Satine's reign  
> \- Bryce only agreed to this so her own village wouldn't be uprooted and would be allowed to maintain traditional Mando culture  
> \- Arthur resigned from the Jedi after the completion of the mission, got married to Bryce and has been on Mandalore ever since

Rex hated missions on mostly-water worlds. Even having grown up on Kamino, the risk of something going wrong and drowning was much to high for his taste, and it made him antsy and unsettled. He did, however, prefer it to being thrown from buildings and bluffs, thank you General Skywalker, and so definitely wasn't going to make mention of it to his superiors. Thankfully, they weren't actually fighting _in_ the water, but there was so little land mass that the sea was usually visible at all times in one direction or another. 

General Skywalker had tried to requisition some Jedi assistance, but from what Rex understood, one of the only Jedi with non-Force command of water was on another mission she couldn't be pulled away from. So, instead, Obi-Wan had offered up a contact of her own, a 'family friend'.

"I don't see how another Mandalorian is going to help." Skywalker sighed. "No offense."

"None taken, but it's not her help I'd ask for. Her husband is an Atlantean."

"I mean, I guess you could give it a shot. We don't have a huge timeframe to work with, though."

In the end, the mysterious Mandalorian contact had agreed to help them, her husband in tow, and they pulled out of hyperspace just long enough to allow a sleek black ship to dock in the hangar before routing to Hydreanas, the world under siege by the Separatists. As a matter of course, Skywalker, Tano, Obi-Wan and himself were there to greet their new arrivals. Rex was somewhat stunned by the pair that greeted them in return. 

The Mandalorian was a tall woman wearing black who's armour was painted an equally dark black, matte except for the hellbat in gloss across her chest. She carried several weapons on her person, but Rex got the impression from her that most of her arsenal was small and hidden - she looked like she preferred close-quarters combat, somewhere where her obscure shape and dark clothing would confuse or undermine an opponent. Behind her came a very large man wearing denim pants, a leather vest and leather bracers on his forearms. He also wore heavy rings with blue and green stones, as well as a shell on a leather cord around his neck. His bronze skin was covered in tattoos, and his brown-blonde hair hung down passed his shoulders in loose curls. Across his back, in a harness, was a beautiful golden trident, and from a clip on his belt hung a metal cylinder that looked remarkably like a lightsaber. 

"Arthur?" Skywalker blurted. "Arthur Curry?!"

"Hey! Little Ani!" The man broke into a grin that lit up his face, and he rushed forward to crush Skywalker in a hug. "Damn, man! The last time I seen you, you only came up to my hip!"

"I _was_ eight." Skywalker reasoned, pulling back. "This is my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano."

"Heh, I hope you give your master as much trouble as he did his." Arthur grinned. 

"She does." Skywalker groaned. 

"Hey! You're no walk in the park either, Skyguy." Tano shot back. 

"Enough, Snips." 

Arthur snorted with a shake of his head. "Man, you almost make me miss the Temple. How are Mera, Kal-El and Diana anyway? I take it you don't see much of them."

"Not really. I tried to commandeer Mera for this operation, actually, but she's busy on the other side of the galaxy."

"She never did like to sit things out."

"Kal-El and Diana were both given special dispensation to return to their people's colonies to help protect them from the war, since they're so small. I don't know what they've been up to since they left."

"I should have guessed. I appreciate you telling me, though."

"Not a problem."

Bryce didn't bother with the Jedi, however, and came right to Obi-Wan. " _Al'verde_. I'm glad to see you well."

"You as well, _alor_." The two Mandos bumped helmets. 

"And you must be Rex, her _alor'ad_ and _riduur_."

"Yessir." He knew at least what one of those words meant. 

"I am Bryce Wayne."

"Good to meet you, sir."

"I also have two children, one of them a very recent adoption. Boba Fett and Din Djarin." Obi-Wan cut back in. 

"Jango's son?" Bryce cocked her head. "How curious. I'm surprised he came with you. Where is Din from?"

"Aq Vetina."

Bryce hissed. "I heard about that massacre."

"Yes. Rex found him. It's been slow-going, since he doesn't speak much Basic and I'm not very fluent in his tongue either, but Boba has taken up that mantle."

"That's good to hear. I'm glad someone was able to get Boba out from under Aurra Sing. You also mentioned the clones?"

"Yes. I've taken many of them in as part of my clan. They wear the gyrfalcon."

Bryce nodded. "Good. I was . . . disturbed when the information reached me." She turned her gaze on Rex. "You and your brothers do not disturb me, but Jango's actions and the unsettling timing of your discovery and subsequent deployment do not sit well."

"Many natborns are uncomfortable with us, sir. We wouldn't have taken offense either way."

He could tell she was frowning under her bucket. "Rid yourself of the notion. You and your brothers are a part of my sister-clan and are just as much an individual sentient no matter the face you wear. Do you think beskar helmets are so unique to stare down?"

"I, uh, I never considered it that way, sir."

"You should. None of your symmetry bothers me, nor will your individualism. In particular, you are the husband of a dear friend. Whatever I can do to help you, I will."

"Heh, are all Mandos like this or just you?"

"Those of us with loved ones take great pains to care for them. Bonds are the foundation of Mandalorian culture, the essence of choice and effort that bind us."

"I'll make sure the message gets passed around."

"You may also want to warn your brothers about Arthur."

Rex felt himself tense. "What about Arthur?"

"Arthur is Jango's nephew by blood." Bryce explained. "He will be very keen to get to know you."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Oh, I remember. I'll make sure the men know before we let the menace loose."

"Good. Then we should get to planning." Bryce turned to the three Jedi all talking. "Enough. To the bridge."

"Yes ma'am." Arthur beamed, laying one massive hand on each of the younger Jedi's shoulders and steering them towards the elevator. 

| | | 

Once the briefing was done and the plan was confirmed, Bryce and Arthur insisted both on meeting the children and then on meeting the brothers.

Boba met them in the hallway, little Din holding his hand and wearing the blacks Hestion had made for him, a much smaller version of Obi-Wan's old shawl hanging from his shoulders and a pair of cadet boots protecting his feet. 

"Ah, the young ones." Bryce knelt, holding out her hand. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Bryce."

"Boba." Boba took her hand, reaching out and closing her wrist. "This is Din."

Din glanced between them, then laid his hand on top of their. Bryce chuckled warmly. 

"Good to meet you too, Din. You're a lovely boy."

Din flushed and ducked his head behind Boba, pushing his face into Boba's clothing. 

"What a sweetheart." Arthur cooed, smiling broadly enough to squish his eyes shut. "You're both such dashing boys."

"I hear we're blood relatives." Boba said, looking up at the larger man. 

"Yup. You're my cousin." 

"So you do think I'm a real child." 

Arthur cocked his head. "Is this a trick question or something?"

"Most people think of me as a clone, not a son."

"You can be both. People aren't defined by one thing, little man." Arthur ruffled his curls. "How else would your dad be your dad, your mom's husband and a clone all at the same time?"

Boba blew out a breath. "Sorry. Most new people just-"

"Don't worry about it." Arthur crouched down to touch their foreheads together. "Even if you weren't Jango's kid, you'd still be my family."

"Thanks."

Bryce shared an inscrutable look with Obi-Wan, but neither woman commented on it. 

"The barracks are this way." Obi-Wan broke in. "The men are eager to meet you."

She lead them down to the recreational section of the ship, where many of the men tended to hang out on their downtime if they weren't in the hangar. 

"The Jedi don't generally come down here uninvited." Obi-Wan said as they walked in. Bryce nodded, pulling off her helmet as soon as the doors shut behind her. Lengthy locks of pitch black hair fell around her shoulders, thick and wavy. She had pale skin and depthless black eyes resting stop high, sharp cheekbones. It was an interesting contrast to Obi-Wan's colourful appearance, with her blue eyes, dappled freckles and copper hair that offset the peach tone to her skin. 

Arthur pulled her in to kiss the top of her head, smiling widely. "There's my girl."

Bryce took the affection without acknowledging it, but Rex got the feeling she was an expressly private individual, and a deeply guarded one. 

The brothers, on the other hand, were struck dumb by their appearance, especially the brothers with the gyrfalcon, who knew what taking off the helmet meant. 

"These are my kin." Obi-Wan introduced, gesturing to the painted men. 

Arthur beamed and waved happily, while Bryce inclined her head in an unmistakably regal fashion. 

"Hi! It's awesome to see all you guys!" Arthur, arm still over Bryce's shoulders, reached out and pulled the closest clone under his other arm. "I'm Arthur Curry. Obi-Wan is from my wife's sister-clan - we're practically family."

Hardcase, the unlucky recipient of Arthur's hug, shared a look with Fives, then shrugged and wrapped his own arm around Arthur's waist. "Welcome to the brotherhood, then, _vod_."

Arthur laughed, warm and loud. "I knew I was gonna like you guys."

| | | 

Rex had been fighting with himself for the better part of the evening, watching his wife, sons, brothers and proxy-family interact. Arthur had quickly become a favourite, animatedly telling the story of how he met Bryce and the dramatic way he returned to Mandalore, asking to marry her. The brothers had cooed, a couple even making pointed jokes at Obi-Wan, who just laughed. The boys got comfortable very quickly, and Din had been dissolved to squealing giggles more than once. 

But Bryce's dark, knowing eyes had turned on him more than once, and every time his heart leapt into his throat. Her expression never changed, but there was a gleam there, some uncanny ability that sure felt a lot like when the Jedi were trying to get a read on you through the Force. 

As the night waned and lights out came around, the troopers tapered off, all with various promises to get together again for training or meals. Arthur gladly agreed, clapping the men on the back or hugging them. Bryce wasn't left out of the brothers' affection - Kano, specifically, had been discussing weapon mods and melee combat options. A few of the other more serious or reserved brothers had taken to the dark woman, comfortable in the low but continuous conversation she provided. 

"Rex," Obi-Wan's hand on his shoulder jerked him back to the present and out of Bryce's phantom grip, "I'm going to put the boys to bed. I'll meet you back in the room."

"Alright. I've got to shoo the last of the brothers to bunk anyway." He agreed. 

Obi-Wan kissed him sweetly on the forehead, Din asleep in her arms and Boba yawning widely at her side, then left the atrium. 

Rex tapped his comm and sent out the _lights out_ notification. The remaining brothers sheepishly bid their goodnights and dispersed. Somewhere in the shuffle, Arthur disappeared as well, and as Rex was entering the lift, a black-clad body slipped in with him. 

"Captain." Bryce nodded. "Mind if I slip in?"

"Not at all. Which floor?"

"My quarters are near yours."

He swallowed thickly. "Ah."

The ride was mostly silent, but Bryce's presence pressed against him oppressively, and he struggled with whether he should speak, and therein what he would say. 

"You can ask."

His head snapped up and he tried his best not to present like the prey animal he felt like under her steely gaze. "About?"

"Whatever has been on your mind all evening."

"Uh, nothing has sir." 

She reached over and pressed the stop button, and the elevator come to a swift stop, the symbol for _Warning: Between Floors_ lighting up in the corner. "I suggest you be more honest with me, Rex. We're family, and keeping secrets can be problematic."

His gaze snapped up at that wording, but still found Bryce's eyes to be impassive and inscrutable. "Secrets?"

"Yes, secrets." She cocked her head. "What is it you're so itching to ask me?"

He hesitated. "How much do you know about Obi-Wan? You seem to be very familiar with her."

"This isn't jealousy, I hope."

"Not at all. I just . . . " He sighed. "There's so much about her that I don't know."

"I've known Obi-Wan since she was nineteen, when she returned to Mandalore. I had never met her before then."

"For her contract to protect the Duchess?"

"Yes. But that symbol," She gestured to the gyrfalcon on the edge of his breastplate, "that is something I saw long before I seen it on her."

"You knew her clan?"

"Arcada Kyracyk was the clan matron that made the name famous." Bryce leaned back against the railing. "Arcada had two of her own biological children, Scythia and Brell, a daughter and a son. When her best friend was killed, she took in his two infant children, Skri and Tressallis, another daughter and son. She raised all of them to be Mandalorians, but above them all, Scythia was the most renowned. She worked as an Elite Commando for the Mand'alor, Jaster Mereel, during the Civil War. I was a young woman when Scythia was at the height of her fame, fresh to the battlefield, but there was no one more impressive. Many were of the opinion that the only reason Scythia _wasn't_ the Mand'alor in her own right was because she simply didn't want the position."

"She sounds impressive."

"She was. And if you want to know the truth about Obi-Wan, which I am at liberty to divulge, you should bring her name to Jocasta Nu in the Jedi Temple." Bryce tapped the _Resume_ button.

"You can't tell me?"

"Obi-Wan has lived a hard life, and some shadows are long and hard to live in." Bryce replied cryptically. "Do your best not to blame her for not being ready to relive it."

Rex was quiet when he got off the elevator, and remained so even as he slid into bed behind his enigma of a wife, pulling her close and trying to get his spinning mind to rest.

* * *

The battle had gone well, and Arthur had been an incredible asset. It was even impressive to watch Bryce, the way her entire body became a weapon. 

The look she'd given Rex as she boarded her personal ship to leave made him squirm, and when Obi-Wan asked him about it, he was nervous and distant, unwilling to talk about it despite being a terrible liar. He'd dodged her needling the whole journey back to Coruscant - called back due to some Jedi business on Skywalker's end that involved Obi-Wan's commission and would leave them grounded for a couple of days - and was even confronted by Kano for being distracted. 

"Hey, Rex," Tano cut into his lost train of thought, "we're going to be grounded for a bit - have you ever thought of bringing Din and Boba to the creche? Some of the younglings there might speak Din's language and be able to teach him a little bit more Basic."

"That's a good idea." He replied, a plan cementing itself in his mind. "I'll have to bring them once we've landed."

Tano beamed because she loved being helpful, and especially helpful to Rex and Obi-Wan. 

| | | 

Rex was supremely uncomfortable in the Jedi Temple and always had been. There was no one here that looked like him in any capacity - a rarity in his line of work - and he felt the curious gazes settle on him heavily, even if they weren't necessarily judgmental ones. 

The crechemaster who approached them was a male Nautolian who was a deep purple, robes a warm beige. "Ah, Captain. Padawan Tano informed me you might come by. How may I assist you?"

"Uh, she suggested it might do my sons good to interact with other children." 

"You have children?" 

"They're adopted." He gestured them forward. "The elder is Boba and the younger is Din. Din was rescued from a warzone in Aq Vetina."

"I did hear about Aq Vetina, yes." The Master nodded. He knelt down to face Din, who blinked at him shyly. "Welcome, little one."

"He doesn't speak much Basic." Boba said. "I've been trying to teach him."

"You're a very devoted young man, then." The master smiled. "Perhaps the two of us can work together to make teaching him easier for you both, hmm?"

"I could use the help." Boba admitted. 

"I'll take the children, Captain." The master smiled. "If you have other business to attend to, I will take care of them."

"Thank you. I do have something I need to do." 

| | | 

Rex hasn't ever really travelled through the Jedi Temple, though he is familiar with its layout from the schematics. He'd been to the Jedi High Council chambers once or twice in the company of Skywalker, Tano or Obi-Wan, and down to the briefing rooms to discuss battalion cooperation and strategy. He's never been just . . . wandering in the Temple before, and he keenly observed the Jedi here, in their natural habitat. Younglings ran and played with each other, Padawans meditated in the garden, Knights sparred and Masters took long, slow walks with each other, deep in discussion. The aura was very calm and gentle, and he felt like he did when he woke up in bacta tanks - weightless, like he could sleep soundly forever in the tender warmth and never suffer again. 

After a few minutes, however, he found the place he was looking for; the Jedi library and archives. Like he expected, it wasn't particularly difficult to find. What he had underestimated, however, was the sheer scale of the library. 

The halls of the library were at least a dozen storeys tall, if not more than that, and were completely lined with records: datapads, data chips, thumb drives, holovids, news reels, holonovels, old flimsi books and ancient scrolls made of browning parchment. There were terminals that lined the lower levels to allow access to the digital servers that were situated under the Temple and contained other ancient sources that had been digitalized before their destruction as well as more modern media, like news broadcasts and the reports from the war. Beyond even the towering stacks of the library proper was the archive, full of artifacts and disintegrating flimsi, parchment and vellum. Even deeper within the archive existed the holocron vault - what kind of information was stored there, he had no idea. Likely Jedi secrets, both ancient and modern, as well as Jedi rosters, but he wasn't a Jedi - he would never be certain. 

Despite knowing what he would be facing down, the sheer scale of the task before him was intimidating, and he had frozen just to the left of the entrance, staring up at the blue-lit vaulted ceilings and the shelving that met it at the seams. 

"You seem very lost, young man." He did his best not to startle, turning to find an old woman with her hair gathered neatly in a bun on the back of her head. She was dressed in simple, but bright yellow robes, and she offered him a kindly smile. 

"I'm just . . . overwhelmed."

"The library does have that effect, even on those who had lived with it since they were children." She mused. "However, I may be of some assistance to you. I'm Jocasta Nu, Master of the Archive and chief librarian."

"I could really use the help." He breathed, relieved. "I'm Captain Rex, of the 501st Legion."

"I've heard of you from Padawan Tano." She smiled. "She's very fond of you. Come, tell me what you're looking for."

He followed her over to a secluded terminal and pulled over a chair, sitting down beside her. He looked over at his helmet, sitting innocently on the desk beside him, watching his own eyes flicker across the black visor, before returning his attention to Jocasta. She didn't seem impatient with him, maybe already guessing that he was nervous and out of his depth. "I'm looking for information on a Mandalorian woman by the name of Scythia Kyracyk."

Jocasta's eyes widened fractionally. "And where did you hear that name?"

"From a Mandalorian who came to our aid on our last campaign. She told me to look up the name, and that I should come to the Temple to do so."

"They'd be right to direct you here." Jocasta stood again, bringing him into an private conference room with a holotable and a closing door. Some comfortable chairs were scattered about, but this time neither of them sat down. Jocasta keyed something into the console, and the image of a woman in full beskargam appeared before him. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, with arched eyebrows shading narrow eyes that rested on high cheekbones that met a narrow, straight nose with a full mouth. Her blonde hair was short and choppy, very much meant to be helmet-friendly and low-maintenance. The beskargam she wore was identical to Obi-Wan's when she joined, even including the tattered cape. A brief appeared next to the image. 

_Scythia Kyracyk_

_Homeworld: Concord Dawn_

_Ethnicity: Mandalorian_

_Occupation: Alor'aan to Mand'alor Jaster Mereel_

_Species: Human_

_Gender: Female_

_Status: Deceased_

"Alor'aan?" The word felt strange in his mouth.

"Our equivalent of a general." Jocasta hummed thoughtfully. "Though, the ranking structure of the Mandalorians isn't as straightforward as the ranks of the GAR. She was somewhere between General and Guardian, fulfilling both roles. She was really only in the two ranks just below the ruler himself."

"She's very impressive."

"Ah, Scythia's accomplishments can't be measured in rank. It was the opinion of many in the senior command that if she had of wanted to, she could have taken over as Mand'alor at any time. Some were waiting for her to, but she never challenged Mereel, not once."

"Challenge him?"

"To be the sole ruler of the Mandalorians and command the armies, you have to wield the Darksaber." She brought up an image of it, and he went cold. "Whoever holds it is the Mand'alor, and whoever wins it from the other takes over their position."

" . . . I see."

"So, Captain, what about Scythia did you want to know?"

"What can you find?"

"Find?" Jocasta chuckled. "Oh, dear boy, I knew her."

* * *

_There was a silver flash and the head of the Mandalorian standing over her slid forward, landing heavily on her lap, dark blood staining her beige robes and soaking through the cloth, sticking grossly to her skin. She nearly gagged at the sensation, but instead pushed the head off and scrambled back towards her lightsaber, grabbing it in a shaking hand and forcing herself to her feet. She was aching, and her vision was hazing in and out of focus, but there was no way she was going to go down without a fight._

_"Don't bother." The dark figure spoke, the voice feminine and thick with a Concord Dawn accent. Another Mandalorian stepped into the faint moonlight, bending down to wipe a beskar sword off with the dead Mandalorian's cape. The Mando stood once they were done, then sheathed the blade into a scabbard resting across her lower back. "I'm not here for you."_

_"Who are you here for?" She asked, wavering where she stood._

_"Him." The Mando gestured down at the decapitated man._

_"Why? He's Mandalorian as well."_

_The Mando snorted. "No, he's not. He's a terrorist in beskar."_

_"And you're not?"_

_"_ Jetii _." She sighed, shaking her head. "If you don't know the situation you're in, you shouldn't be here."_

_"It's my mission to protect the people, and that's what I'll do." She replied, tightening her grip on her lightsaber._

_"Who's people?" The Mando reached up and pulled off their helmet, revealing a woman's face with short cut blonde hair. She was beautiful, in an angular way, with round but narrow green eyes, a slender and upturned nose, prominent cheekbones and bowed lips. She cocked her head, watching her critically. "Certainly not mine. Between the Kalevalan invaders and the_ Kyr'tsad _terrorists, you've done nothing but attack Mandalore's people."_

_"Kalevalan invaders?"_

_"Yes, the invaders from Kalevala. The 'pacifists', the Kryzes, the New Mandalorians - they can call themselves whatever they want, but invaders are what they are." She shifted, setting her helmet on her hip, watching her closely. "What's your name,_ jetii _?"_

_"Why do you want to know?"_

_"Because I'd like to call you by it." She smiled, and it was friendly enough, but somehow also tinged with melancholy. "Mine's Scythia, if that's any incentive for you."_

_She frowned, but it was getting hard to think. "I've heard that name before."_

_"No doubt." Scythia replied. "My contempt for the_ Kry'tsad _is reciprocated. And the Kalevalans are no fans either."_

_"Why would they know your name, specifically?"_

_"Probably because I keep killing them." She cocked an eyebrow. "And I'm good at it."_

_Her leg, which had been wounded earlier in the day and had been slowly seeping blood the entire time, finally gave out from under her. Scythia's smile dropped and she came over, kneeling down and inspecting her leg, finding the massive gash in her shin._

_"_ Or'dinii _." Scythia hissed, reaching back into a satchel hanging off her left hip and pulling out a small foil package. She also pulled out a small knife, cutting away the pant leg and using the unstained interior to wipe away as much of the blood as she could. "How long have you let this run?"_

_"Some blaster the earlier Mandalorians had fragmented when I deflected the shot and it cut through my leg. I was on the run after their ambush killed the other three Jedi I was with and had no time to stop and look at it. They finally caught up with me just now."_

"Utreekov. _" She hissed again, putting the foil packet back in her satchel. "This isn't going to cut it."_

_She struggled when Scythia tried to lift her, fighting the Mandalorian until Scythia pulled back with a scowl. "I won't let you take me!"_

_"I'm trying to save your life, you fucking idiot." Scythia snapped. "Arteries in your leg have been knicked, that's why it hasn't clotted and closed yet. I can leave you here to bleed out for the next sixteen hours if you're really bent on it, but if you want to live, I have to get you out of the open and cauterize it."_

_"Why?' She panted. "Why are you even trying to help me?"_

_Scythia's face softened. "You shouldn't be here, and you're obviously not well equipped to be."_

_"Pity? That can't be all of it."_

_"It's not, but you don't have that kind of time. So, are you going to fight me again, or will you let me get you out of here?"_

_She dropped her head. "Jocasta Nu."_

_"Hmm?" Scythia pulled her arm over her shoulder, heaving them both to their feet._

_"You asked my name. It's Jocasta Nu."_

_Scythia chuckled, sliding her helmet back on. "A pleasure."_

| | | 

_For a week after the harrowing cauterization, Scythia nursed her back to health with a combination of forced rest, native herbal tea and spicy soup._ _On the eighth day after she had met the Mandalorian, she woke up to new voices outside the little outcropping they'd been camping under. The fire was still going, and none of Scythia's minor belongings had been moved._

_"Good thing I wasn't asking your opinion." Scythia answered another feminine voice._

_"The_ Jetii _don't care about us." An indignant male voice answered. "She'll cut you down the moment your back is turned. They are our enemy."_

_"She can try." Scythia returned, voice hard. "Look, I've killed her kind just as she's slain mine, but if we want them out of here, we have to convince them to leave. Killing them all off just because we can isn't going to mean they'll stop trying to intervene. The Kalevalans are the ones courting the Republic and bringing them here, not any self-interest of their own."_

_"It's not right." The feminine voice answered. "She has to go."_

_"And she will, back to the Republic and the Jedi Council."_

_"You don't know what she'll say to them!" The feminine voice snapped in exasperation. "She could suggest they send even more force!"_

_"Perhaps, but we're entirely damned if_ no one _returns." Scythia replied._

_"Mereel won't like this." The male voice threatened._

_"I'll deal with Jaster of my own accord, but I don't answer to either of you. If you feel so strongly, there are plenty of Jedi out there to hunt down on your own. Don't interfere in my business."_

_"_ Buir _won't like this either." Another male voice spoke up, soft but unjudgmental._

_"I'll deal with it." Scythia insisted. "Now, was there anything else you needed?"_

_"No,_ vod. _" The first male voice replied sharply. "Go back to catering to your_ Jetii _."_

_There was the sound of jetpacks firing up, then Scythia's boots crunched back into their camp. She noticed right away that she was awake, seating herself on a little rocky outcrop that had served as her seat for the last week. "I suppose you heard all that, huh?"_

_"Not all of it." She admitted. "But they weren't happy with you protecting me."_

_Scythia shrugged. "I don't care."_

_"Are they allies of yours?"_

_"Siblings." Scythia sighed, pulling off her helmet and dropping it at her feet, running her hand through her hair. "Really pushy siblings. You'd think being the oldest, they'd believe I know what I'm doing."_

_"How many do you have?"_

_"Three, but only the one is biological." Scythia smirked to herself, shaking her head. "I'm the oldest, then below me is my biological brother, younger by five years. Pontus is his name. Then my adopted siblings are Bithynia, who's my younger sister of eight years, and Mithridates, my youngest brother by ten years."_

_"I'm surprised you have adopted siblings."_

_"Eh, you shouldn't be. Mandalorians love children." Scythia tossed a fond smirk her way. "They were the children of my mother's best friend, but he died on campaign. He didn't have any immediate family to take them, so she did. They were only five and two at the time, and barely remember him. What was his name?" She paused, thinking. "Right, Aurelius Caria."_

_"They don't sound like very Mandalorian names."_

_"Don't confuse an ethnicity, nationality and culture for a species." Scythia gently chastized. "Saying my name doesn't sound Mandalorian is like saying your name doesn't sound Jedi."_

_"I suppose so." She sat up._

_"Some of the houses carry old names, though." Scythia admitted. "Fett, Kryze, Viszla are all old houses - you'd probably call them nobility, of a sort."_

_"You didn't give me your last name." She realized. "Are you one as well?"_

_"Indeed." She gestured down to the stylized, embossed bird on her chestplate, flying upward. with its chin raised. "I'm from the Kyracyk house."_

_"Scythia Kyracyk-" It clicked in her head._

_Her face must have gone slack in horror, because Scythia laughed and waved a hand at her. "Ha, there it is. Yes, I'm the very same."_

_"You're the one that cut through the forces at Sundari and killed off the Duke and Duchess."_

_"They were a Duke and Duchess on Kalevala - Mandalore doesn't have inherited titles." Her smirk sharpened to a grin. "If they wanted to keep their lives, they shouldn't have come here."_

_"They were innocent!"_

_"Innocent? How?" Scythia cocked her head and looked every ounce the bird of prey on her chestplate. "Were they innocent when they moved onto Mandalore and founded a city, unwelcomed? Were they innocent when they forced the inhabitants of their stolen land to give up their culture and tradition under pain of violence and death? Were they innocent when they started to push their influence outward, all in the name of_ peace- _" She spat the word, "and decided my people didn't deserve to live here? Were they innocent when they decided my people didn't deserve to_ live _?"_

_She had nothing to say._

_"Neither the Kalevalans or the_ Kyr'tsad _have the support they like to imagine they do, but the Kalevalans resorted to courting the support and intervention of the Republic._ Or'dinii Jetii _, why do you think you're even here?"_

_She swallowed and looked down at her hands. "Why did you save me, then?"_

_"Because someone has to go back to your Council and tell them to leave us alone." Scythia said, looking into the fire. "The war has only escalated the way it has because the Republic got involved. We would have driven out the invaders and routed the terrorists back into their caves on Concordia if only the Republic and their_ Jetii _kept out."_

_"How do you know? How do you know any of this?" She asked softly._

_"Because I'm the Right Hand of the Mand'alor."_

| | |

_Travelling with Scythia was a strange affair._

_In the little rural villages they passed through, Scythia received deference, of all things, and the townsfolk offered to shelter them and feed them for the duration of their stop. Other Mandalorians they ran into greeted her cordially, pointedly ignoring her Jedi companion. A few even joined their little band, headed with them to Keldabe. At camp in the evenings, it was so strange to see the Mandalorians, most of them strangers to each other personally, sit around a bubbling pot of unnecessarily spicy soup and laughing with each other, or rolling in the dirt in a friendly wrestle. They all acted like they belonged together, never enough of a stranger not to share a meal or sleep piled together - they were brothers and sisters beyond the bonds of blood._

_They were soldiers._

| | | 

_They were silent as they passed through the desolated remains of a small town, almost completely razed and still smouldering._

_"What happened here?" She breathed, her heart seizing in her chest._

_"The Kalevalans drove them out." One of their companions, Lycia, said. Her voice was inflectionless, void. "Then Death Watch lit it on fire."_

_"Why?"_

_"To make a point." Another companion, Phrygia, spat._

_"What point? There's not anyone here."_

_"What's the point, she says." A third companion, Xanthus, laughed bitterly, hitting Lycia in the shoulder. Lycia merely shook her head and looked away._

_Phrygia's husband, Gordion, pointed into the remains of one of the houses. "You have to know that to look for,_ Jetii _. Do you see that lump of soot in the corner? With the white chunks in it? Bones crack and splinter when subjected to intense heat."_

_She had known that, but seeing it, knowing . . . She felt sick._

_"The point," Gordion continued, voice still low and soft, "is to drive us out."_

_She looked up at Scythia, but Scythia didn't acknowledge the conversation. The Right Hand was just gazing out over the remains of the town, her boots leaving an imprint in the ash._

_"Every day, there are more and more towns like this. Your New Mandalorians use the money and weapons your Republic gives them to level our homes." Gordion continued, pointing to a fallen beam with another pile of ashes and fragmentary bones under it. "And then the Death Watch come and throw stones at the remains."_

_"I would have thought the Death Watch would want the New Mandalorians gone first."_

_"The Kalevalans don't care what the Death Watch do." Scythia said, fingers trailing along the bent and blacked remains of a durasteel fence. "The only reason they've managed to get this out of control is because of the Kalevalans, and should the Kalevalans gain control of the planet, they'll stamp them out all the same."_

_"Can't you kill them off?"_

_"What do you think I've been doing?" Scythia snapped. The other four Mandalorians went silent. "How many places do you expect me to be in? I can't kill them all off on Concordia and leave my people to the Kalevalans. Why would I deal with the wasps when the bears are on our doorstep? Think for a moment, Jocasta, and don't ask stupid questions when the answer's right in front of you."_

| | | 

_"I'm sorry."_

_Scythia looked up from where she'd been cleaning off the mud crusted around the buckles of her boots. "What for?"_

_"For everything. For this war you're in, for the Republic's support, for the Jedi involvement - for the ignorant things I've said."_

_She snorted, a fond look coming to her face. "Don't be. I don't expect you to know."_

_"I should know. Jedi are supposed to be peacekeepers, not soldiers - I should have looked into it from the start."_

_"Hmm, what are you?" Scythia cocked her head. "Trained to fight, but not your purpose?_ _"_

_"Well, yes. I'm an apprentice librarian. But All Jedi are peacekeepers first."_

_"Tell me then, if you're a peacekeeper, whose peace are you keeping?"_

_"Everyone's peace."_

_"Let me rephrase - having seen what you have here, who do you think is most worthy of having control of Mandalore, and thus restoring peace?"_

_"I- Your faction certainly wasn't doing_ badly _."_

_Scythia chuckled. "If your objective is peace, then surely whoever is most likely to win would be who you would choose, hmm? The faster the war is ended, the sooner 'peace' is restored. But if that were the case, you would have sided with us without our asking, since we were the predominant force on the planet and remain so, despite ostensibly facing down three separate factions."_

_"I suppose so."_

_"And yet, your Jedi and the Republic didn't side with us. They sided with the Kalevalans. Doesn't that imply a moral judgment, then, to back the losing side? So I ask again, whose peace are you keeping?"_

_"The Kalevalans'."_

_"Here, yes. Your people have made a moral judgment that the interests of the Kalevalans aligns with theirs, but I mean in general. Across the galaxy, whose peace are you enforcing? Whose moral agenda do you align yourself with, if you're not just backing the prospective victor to stop the fighting?"_

_"The Republic, I guess."_

_"And if you're securing the Republic's version of peace, have you decided whether the Republic is morally comparable to you, or is it because they are the biggest gundark in the cave?"_

_"I- I don't know."_

_Scythia leaned forward. "Exactly. You don't know who you are or why you're here. How can I hold your ignorance against you when you've never known any different?"_

_"Can't I say the same about you?"_

_"I have only two alliances," She raised her fingers, "my people, and money. I will lay my life down to ensure my people keep the lives they have, and I will fight anyone for money. Sometimes I fight for money for the state, as a soldier, and sometimes I take bounties just for me."_

_"How do you know the people live the lives they want?"_

_"Because they can go anywhere else if they're unhappy here." She shrugged. "Most of the people here aren't soldiers - they're farmers, carpenters, craftsmen, vendors and artisans. Keldabe's grand palace has some of the most ornate stained glasswork and mosaics in the galaxy. Our smiths are the most talented to be found, and make the strongest alloys. Our spice farms run on next to no water because of our underground irrigation systems. None of them are Mando'ade, but they are_ our _people nonetheless."_

_"How can it be so simple for you?"_

_"Because I'm not chained to some lofty ideal, just the matters that make my world continue to spin." Scythia leaned back, the fire flickering orange across her face. "Besides, if I don't agree with that my leaders are doing, I just kill them and take over. Easy."_

_"And if someone doesn't like what you do?"_

_"Assuming they can kill me?" She laughed. "Then I die and they get to do what they want. I don't have to care - I won't be there for it."_

_"I'm surprised peace doesn't matter to you at all, even just for your own people."_

_"Peace is an idea. There's nothing to point at and say,_ 'That's what peace looks like' _. No one will ever agree on what peace consists of because it doesn't consist of anything - it's a thought, no more tangible than any other thought you've ever had. Conflict between people is inevitable, and somewhere, sometime, someone will rise up with the intent to destroy another. It's just how it is. It doesn't matter why they want to, just that they will. So, no - I don't consider peace worth fighting for. For my people, all I want is for them to be able to chose what they do, where they go, who they associate with and not get killed somewhere in the process. I want to protect life, not secure peace."_

_"They're not mutually exclusive."_

_"Maybe not, but they're not synonymous either." Scythia smirked. "You're going to be a librarian - I would have guessed you'd have seen a thesaurus once or twice."_

_She broke out into a startled laugh. "Yes, you'd think."_

_Scythia waved a hand at her. "As for your apology - don't worry about it. Who knows, maybe we would have even been friends in another situation."_

_She smiled softly. "Who knows, maybe we still can be."_

| | | 

_Once they were in Keldabe, their four companions left them with warm farewells. Even Xanthus, who had been leery of her, wished her a safe journey back to the Republic._

_"This ship will bring you to Coruscant." Scythia instructed, gesturing to a large passenger freighter across the docks. "There are refugees and captured Kalevalan colonists aboard, so you should blend in well."_

_"I would have thought you would keep prisoners."_

_"They tax resources too much to keep them, and there's no point anyway. No sense in making martyrs of them. Regardless, your fare is paid for and they leave in the next two hours, so I suggest you hurry aboard."_

_"Thank you." She took the other woman's hand. "I've not said it until now, but I appreciate everything you've done for me."_

_"You can thank me by asking your Council to pull back from the fighting." She replied, but didn't sound hostile. "With any luck, my friend, this will be the last time we meet."_

* * *

"What happened when you returned?" Rex asked softly.

"Well, I went to the Council and relayed my report and my opinion. The Council took my opinion into consideration, but ultimately decided against my advice not to continue intervention into the Mandalorian situation." 

"Did you ever see her again?"

"Oh yes. I went back to Mandalore and worked alongside her for about two years before I was recalled. In that interim I made good friends with her, Lycia, Phrygia, Gordion, Xanthus. I became the second librarian and an archivist in the seven years that followed. Then, I returned to Mandalore to visit intermittently over the course of the next year. Scythia had gotten married, you see, to a glassblower from Keldabe. She was still a general the last time I seen her, though two of her siblings had retired with their own families. She'd been mentoring a young woman in all black armour - Bryce, her name might have been - who shadowed her every step."

He swallowed thickly. This was probably how Bryce had even known to ask Master Nu in the first place. "What happened to her?"

"A lot happened, dear boy." She sighed. "Like I said, the last time I seen her as in her capacity as a general, but as I understand it, she retired once she found out she was pregnant with her second child. Bithynia and Mithridates had already retired and settled down, with houses not too far from her own. Pontus had resented Bithynia and Mithridates already for abandoning the fight, but when Scythia did . . . he went on a rampage. It was the intervention of the Mand'alor, Jaster Mereel, and his mother, Thrace Kyracyk, that stopped him from outright attacking his siblings. Even though Scythia remained a loyal counsellor to Mereel and even continued taking on especially difficult or vital missions, Pontus tried to fill her shoes."

Rex winced. 

"Indeed. Scythia was a towering figure, and Pontus just didn't have the same talent or charisma. He tried, but it was never enough, and his resentment of his siblings grew. Scythia mentioned to me over a call how Pontus was increasingly blaming her for the way the war was turning in the favour of the New Mandalorians, and bitterly complained about how she'd 'rolled over' for their invaders. Mind you, Scythia was fourty-five at this time, and she'd been a soldier since she was fourteen. I couldn't blame her for wanting to raise a family of her own. But Pontus could, and he did. Then Mereel was killed by a traitor and the True Mandalorian line broke."

Master Nu scanned through a couple of other pictures of Scythia, Jaster Mereel and other Mandalorians until she landed on a collection of news articles and clips collectively titled _The Kyracyk Family Massacre_. 

"Oh no."

Master Nu lowered her head. "Pontus started with Bithynia's family. He killed her first, the only outright kill, then her husband and eldest son. He then went into their backyard and killed off her other two sons. He left them with mortal wounds that took them hours to die from. He repeated the process with Mithridates and his wife, hanging both of them from the railing along the interior staircase. All four of Mithridates' children - three girls and a boy - were in a nearby copse of trees that hid them from view. He killed them as well, generally by bashing their heads off the trees."

He recoiled, the images of the corpses flashing up on the screen. 

"He saved Scythia for last, but her entire family was in the house. Her husband and three of her five children were found on the main floor of the house. Her husband, Keiran, was found with a blaster shot in his head. Her eldest son, Hector, was laying over him with a snapped neck. Her eldest daughter, Kiara, was underneath a china cabinet with a spike of wood through her chest. The middle daughter, Adess, had been stabbed to death in the kitchen. The youngest boy, Jaskar, was found in his bedroom with his head bashed in."

He wanted to vomit. "You said she had five children."

"She did." Master Nu flipped to another picture, the foyer of a house. A man in full armour was lying dead between the stairs and the entrance to the living room, and closer to the door lay Scythia, her intestines spilled out onto the floor next to her. "This is where it gets strange. Coroners at the scene said that some of the family members should have still been alive when they arrived, but all of them, including Scythia, have slash marks on their throats inconsistent with how Pontus killed the other families. He had seemed to want to make their deaths drawn out and painful, but these slices seem like mercy killings. The investigators' timeline says Scythia wasn't present when Pontus started his rampage, and only came home after he'd already incapacitated the rest of her family. Pontus' neck was snapped, meaning that it was likely Scythia who killed him, but you can see she's in no position to go around and offer swift deaths to her family members."

"You think her youngest did it?"

"I do." Master Nu cycled around to another article, dated a few years later. "Not all of Pontus' victims were found right away. The children in the field and copse weren't found for years, since their bodies were torn apart by animals soon after they died. Since the discovery of these bodies, despite still being one short, it's been assumed that Scythia's youngest, Kyestrel, just has yet to be found. Those jugular slashes just don't sit right with me, though."

"What would have Kyestrel have done if she was still alive and killed her family - presumably at Scythia's request?"

"Scythia's mother, Thrace, is on record saying that she found out about her son's plot and came to Mandalore to try and stop it, but was too late. None of the investigators saw her at the scene, but she produced docking slips from Keldabe's port saying that she had been there around the right time."

"Why wouldn't she call the authorities, then? Or stay with her family?" He frowned. 

"My thoughts exactly." Master Nu nodded. "There was something even more important than that - and I think she found Kyestrel there and took her back to Concord Dawn. What became of Kyestrel after that, I'm not sure. Not even Keiran's surname, Hespar, shows up on any records. When Thrace died, no one claimed her estate, and it's been in passive holding by Concord Dawn's government ever since. If I'm right and Kyestrel did survive and was taken in by Thrace, she's either dead now or has taken up as someone else completely."

He glanced over at his beskar pauldron. "Do you think there's any way to be sure?"

"Likely not. Mandalorians cremate their dead, and Pontus was very clearly responsible for the murders. If she's out there, she'd have to admit it herself."

"Thank you for telling me all of this." His comm beeped - Boba was calling him to come pick them up. How long had he been here?

"Hopefully I've sated your curiosity." She smiled at him, but he just felt sick. "If you have any more questions, either about Scythia or other matters, you're always free to come and ask."

"Thank you. I appreciate that." He stood and saluted her, then saw himself out, putting on his bucket to hide the pallor of his skin. 

| | | 

It was late in the evening when Obi-Wan returned from her strategy meeting with the Jedi Generals. Both of the boys were already in bed and asleep, and Rex was only in his blacks, nursing a cup of caf. She noticed his mood immediately, coming over to him and cupping his face. 

"Are you okay?" She asked, but his gaze was drawn to his pauldron on her shoulder. 

"You know that I love you no matter what, right?"

She frowned. "Of course. Rex, what's wrong?"

He stood, pulling her into a tight hug and burying his face in her neck. "I just want to say it. I want to make sure you know. I love you so much, Obi-Wan."

She hugged him back, kissing his temple. "I know, Rex. I love you too."

He'd been battling with himself all evening about whether to confront her with Master Nu's theory, so see if Bryce had been right to send him to the library for the answer to a question that hadn't been asked. He considered what she might say if it was true, the fallout from that, or what she might do if it wasn't, and how betrayed she would feel believing he thought she was lying to him. He was torn about whether to go back to the library and do more research on the Kyracyk clan, and the meaning of the gyrfalcon, the original blue hue the armour had been. He ran through every possible scenario for asking her about it, and weighed the consequences of each of them, for her, for him, for them and for their children. 

Holding her here, now, alive and warm and solid in his arms, he decided - he didn't care. If she was Kyestrel once, she's Obi-Wan now, and both are equally a part of her now. It's none of his business to decide who she is. After all, _Rex_ was a name and identity he forged all by himself and was no less real just because he'd made it. She was his, and she was here - that was all that mattered. Perhaps one day, she'll tell him her life's story, whatever that may be, but he'll not be the one to force it out of her. 

He squeezed her tighter, intent on never letting go no matter what may come. 

* * *

* * *

  



End file.
